Page 80 of Murder at Hambledon Hall
“I see no reason to.” She peered at me over the rim of her teacup. “Not unless I need to warn him that you are going to run to the gossip columnists.”
“You know I won’t,” I said.
She nodded and sipped, satisfied with my response.
“But there is the matter of Esmond’s murder…”
“You think my nephew did it? You think he killed Esmond to keep his father’s secret from getting out?” She scoffed. “Don’t be absurd, Miss Fox. Keeping the scandal from being made public may be enough of a reason to close the bridleway, but it’s not enough to kill a man. His own half-brother, no less.”
When she put it like that, she had a point. It wasn’t a strong enough reason for such a terrible act. The shooting was calculated, perhaps even planned. It wasn’t done in the heat of an argument. Even if Lord Kershaw didn’t learn Esmond was his half-brother until quite recently, it would take a particular coldness to shoot someone he’d known his entire life. I couldn’t imagine Lord Kershaw murdering Esmond Shepherd because they shared the same father. If the scandal came out, what of it? It would embarrass Lord Kershaw, but that was all.
I didn’t throw out the theory altogether, however. “The scandal would affect Janet. Her conservative, politically ambitious fiancé wouldn’t like it. He might even end their engagement over it.”
Lady Elizabeth set down the teacup. “It’s true. He might. But if he’s affected by old gossip that has no bearing on anything at all, then good riddance. Janet will find someone else. Perhaps even someone more suited to her character than the stuffy fellow my nephew and his wife found.” She took her walking stick and used it to push herself to her feet. “Thank you for the tea, Miss Fox. It was unexpectedly invigorating.”
I walked her to the door. “I hope my questions haven’t offended you.”
She chuckled. “It takes a lot to offend me. A few impertinent questions about my family’s naughty past aren’t going to do it.”
I watched her walk slowly along the corridor until she reached the door to her room, then returned inside my own. I sat at my desk and wrote notes to help my thoughts form. I got nowhere, however. Despite the connections between my suspects, and good theories, I lacked a powerful motive.
I checked the time on the clock. If I hurried, I might catch Harry before he left the office for the day. He might have some insights.
I was about to leave when Harmony arrived. She sported an air of satisfaction.
“You found something in the St. Michael’s records?” I asked.
“I looked at the baptisms for 1855, and I found nothing.”
“Then why do you look pleased?”
“Because a page was torn out of the baptism register. I brought it to the vicar’s attention, and he said he hadn’t noticed before. I think Esmond tore it out and kept it as proof.”
“He must have. But I no longer think it matters who his father was. It’s not a strong enough motive to kill him. After all this time, it’s a modest scandal, at worst. Enough for Janet’s fiancé to give up on her, but not enough to kill Esmond Shepherd to stop him revealing it. I doubt even Janet would kill him if she suspected he was going to make the information public. She’s in love with theideaof getting married more than she’s in love with the man she’s marrying.”
Harmony flopped onto the sofa and kicked off her shoes. “What about her father, Mr. Browning? If he has debts and the future son-in-law is wealthy, he might be planning to borrow from him. Esmond could ruin his plans by exposing the scandal.”
“Mr. Browning had a better moneymaking scheme with the thefts. Esmond Shepherd was more valuable to him alive, by blackmailing Lord Kershaw into closing the bridleway and turning a blind eye to the items that went missing from his house.” I sighed. “I’m sorry, Harmony. I sent you to St. Michael’s for nothing.”
“You can make it up to me by allowing me to nap on your sofa. I have two hours before it’s time to do your hair for dinner.”
I’d almost forgotten we were dining with the Kershaws again, since it was their final night at the hotel. “Take the bed. It’s more comfortable. I’ll read a book in here.”
There was a knock at the door. I opened it to find Mr. Hobart standing there. “I hoped to find you in here, Miss Fox. I have a message for you.”
“From Harry?”
“Reverend Pritchard. He telephoned and asked me to pass on the following information.” Mr. Hobart cleared his throat. “He happened to be looking through an old marriage register in the church and discovered a page had been torn out. He doesn’t know when it was torn out or by whom, but he thought it might be relevant to your investigation, given the date.”
“The date?”
“The page included marriages conducted in early 1855. He said it was a year that meant something to you.” He arched his brows in question.
“It does indeed, Mr. Hobart. Thank you for coming here personally. That is very interesting.”
I closed the door and turned to see Harmony was on her feet, with no sign of tiredness. “A torn page from the St. Michael’s baptism register and now one from the Morcombe marriage register, both pages from the year 1855. It can’t be a coincidence.”
“There’s only one reason Esmond Shepherd would be interested in the marriage register,” I went on. “He found a record that his parents got married. He’slegitimate, Harmony. And since he was the eldest son of the fifth earl of Kershaw,hewas the rightful sixth earl.”
